


A Shakespearean Nightmare

by strawberryarcana



Category: N/A - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Body Horror, Gore, M/M, Original Characters - Freeform, Original work - Freeform, Werewolves, i think this is what the kids call whump?, idk if im allowed to do this but im going to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 06:01:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29746062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberryarcana/pseuds/strawberryarcana
Summary: The king of the lands has a dark past. One he has grown comfortable and complacent with. One that comes back to bite him on the ass.





	A Shakespearean Nightmare

The castle is brighter and warmer than usual. The summer night is hot and humid, and the moon is brighter and bigger than Adam's ever seen it. The moon, that damnable moon.

The king crosses the bedroom to kiss his lover gently, cradling Adam's face in his blackened paw. Adam returns the gesture lovingly. "Are you ready, love?" the king asks.  
"Just a moment, dear," Adam replies as he fixes his tie.

Tonight is the anniversary of the king's birth. The king, to everyone but Adam, is a wretched, pathetic creature. Taller than any in his family, strong as ten men. He was in an accident as a child, mauled by a strange black dog. The incident did not kill him, fortunately, but he was awfully disfigured. His chest and neck were knots of scar tissue, crinkly and white after all these years. His hands... they were their own issue entirely. Absolutely disgusting to look at, much less be touched by. Bloated to almost twice the size they should be, and covered from the elbow down in jet black fur. Each meaty finger was tipped with a wicked, inch long claw. It seemed Adam was the only person in the world not frightened by them, by the king.

Adam had met the king on a night not dissimilar to this one, many years ago. Adam had been brought in by the kitchen staff to help work a party much like this one, and the pair fell head over heels, almost literally, when they bumped into each other in a quiet corridor. Adam was a rather small man, quite pale, with an untamable shock of auburn hair, and hundreds of freckles that disappeared into blush whenever the king kissed his cheek or patted his head. The two seemed made for each other, though many nobles and courtiers disapproved. Whispers floated around the court almost endlessly, even when the king was near. Tonight, people were complaining even as the royal pair made their entrance into the grand ballroom, bright and warm despite the tightly drawn curtains. 

The night went well, for the most part. Even the servants ate, drank, and made merry. The king and his lover were so entrenched in one another that they didn't notice as an unfamiliar noble whispered something to a young server. They did not notice the hefty sack of gold exchanging hands. They did not notice the girl make her way to the biggest window in the ballroom, the one they were currently slow dancing in front of.

They did notice when she threw open the heavy curtains, letting the room flood with moonlight. They noticed as it poured onto the king's horrified face, and he shoved his lover away with all his might. Everyone in the room noticed the king, trapped by the crowd in a puddle of light. But he couldn't have moved had the room been empty. He was rooted in place by something deep inside him, something he had always been aware of, something he had become certain he'd never have to face thanks to all sorts of potions and spells. A strange black dog howled somewhere inside of him, and he answered its call. 

The crowd watched in horror, and those closest to the thing that was once their beloved ruler backed away as much as they could. They watched his fine clothes rip to shreds as the thing wearing them grew with a sound of grinding bones and snapping sinews, quickly being overtaken by a thick, jet black fur. As his face stretched and contorted, they heard the last words he would ever say. "I'm so sorry, my love. Please run."

Adam went first. His death was neither quick nor painless. He watched his dearest Frederick pace slowly towards him, growling with a voice like something very old and very angry. He wasn't surprised, he had known about this side of his dear Freddy for a while now, but had become as complacent as his husband. He felt the sharp teeth pluck him from the ground almost as gingerly as a mother cat picking up a naughty kitten, and then he felt them sink so, so deep. He was shaken like a ragdoll and tossed to the ground, limp and bleeding. His own lover tore him to shreds. The people who still had yet to flee, mostly servants of the castle, stood stock still and rooted to the ground in fear. They watched their master turn from the shredded corpse of his lover, blood and viscera caking the midnight fur of his snout, and lunge at them. 

It was the morning sun that broke the fallen king from his odd trance. He was in the garden, naked, surrounded by carnage. He felt full enough to burst. And as the memories of last night flooded his mind, burst he did, the red sick full of meaty chunks. He climbed the cold stone back up to the castle proper, slick with blood, and almost burst again. He passed torn limbs, shredded guts, and even severed heads, still staring up at him in fear. The castle already stunk in the midsummer heat.

There was not much of Adam for his love to identify. Just his favorite necklace, the chain torn and the pendant cracked. Frederick's own crown was nowhere to be found, but he didn't even notice. He just kept climbing. 

He trudged through the gore splattered halls. He climbed for what felt like years and seconds at the same time, up the winding stairs to the highest turret. He passed slaughtered guards, broken servants. With each body, and each step, he grew more resolute of what he must do.

When he reached the highest point of the castle, he looked over the kingdom. How many of those people even knew what had just happened? How strange, he thought, that his whole world had just ended, and he was the one who tore it to shreds, but the people below just carried on, opening their shops and heading off to work like nothing had happened. 

The fall was mercifully short.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a bit worried about this counting for the "bury your gays" trope, but I am a gay man myself and I have had this story floating around in my head for years.


End file.
